Tides
by 1000th Ghost
Summary: He had waited for her for centuries. Now she has returned but in the body of a child. They are destined to be together, but she was not supposed to have found that out, not yet... MoannaxFaun


**Tides**

**By: 1000****th**** Ghost**

*This story is dedicated to Charlie for yelling "HE'S GOING TO RAPE HER!!" whenever Pan walked onto the screen in Pan's Labyrinth, which somehow triggered these characters, who I would NEVER consider pairing together, to become a legit couple in my mind.*

She glanced up, but the presence or lack thereof of the sun or moon or light or darkness said nothing about her new world and its time schedule.

Ofelia – "No," she reminded herself, "Princess Moanna" – only knew that she was almost asleep on her feet and that in her _old _world it must have been the middle of the night.

The celebration had lasted for hours; everyone wanted to welcome and worship their returned little princess. She was introduced to countless people (all who seemed remarkably familiar), feasted until she could not eat another morsel (although she avoided the grapes, which conjured up frightening memories), and danced, mostly with the Faun (who, despite being significantly taller than her, seemed to fit her perfectly).

It had been fabulously entertaining, but now she was sleepy, and the festivities did not appear to be slowing in the slightest.

Moanna yawned loudly from the spot on the floor she had sat on out of sheer exhaustion, and the Faun looked down at her, a comforting smile on his face.

"Tired, Your Highness?"

He sounded like the earth and the water and forgotten, favorite fairytales, and she tilted her head and smiled back.

"Mmm-hmm."

"Come with me then," he said gently, taking her hand and helping her to her feet. "I will take you to your chamber."

She let him lead her through the twisted maze of a castle, refusing to let go of his hand for fear of stumbling in the dark.

The dark itself was consuming, seeming to press down on her eyes until the dark of the night and the dark of her closed eyelids were indistinguishable. She stumbled and awoke half a minute later in his arms, the clacking of his hooves the only sound as he carried her down the hallway.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she mumbled, clumsily rubbing her eyes, "I guess I'm sleepier than I thought."

She yawned again, and he chuckled and turned into a doorway on the right.

She could not make out the details of the room but could see the outline of a bed, which was all she needed at the moment. He placed her on the luscious, almost feathery comforter, and she found herself missing the embrace of his rough, tree-like arms, comfortable though her bed was.

How peculiar.

Then she hardly remembered he was there at all and began to slip her gown off, almost trancelike, so she could finally fall asleep.

She had only succeeded in uncovering her shoulders when his strangled cry of "No, Princess!" broke through her foggy daze.

She stopped and looked up at him in alarm and was surprised to see the spiral markings on his forehead glowing a faint blue. The moon marking on her shoulder was also glowing, she noticed, and she stared at him, puzzlement written in her childish eyes.

"I-I'm so sorry, Your Majesty," he said ashamedly, hanging his head. "You were not supposed to find out so soon."

"Find out what?"

"This." He touched her shoulder, and it seemed to burn under his fingertip. "The moon." He touched his forehead. "And the ocean."

"The moon and the ocean?" she repeated. "You mean, the tides?"

He nodded and then paused, mentally gathering his words before continuing. "You and I, Your Highness, have a…a connection. One that has been since the beginning of time and will remain until the end."

"Oh." She lowered her head to the silken pillow and closed her eyes. For a moment, he thought she had fallen asleep, when she asked, "What kind of a connection?"

"Oh, Princess," he murmured, "I wish that you did not have to know, not now. I wanted to shield you from the knowledge until it was more…favorable."

She opened her eyes and gestured for him to continue anyway. He gingerly sat on the edge of the bed and took one of her small hands in both of his.

"Moanna," he spoke, and she was faintly surprised that he said her name without a formality attached, "we are fated to be…I suppose 'married' is the term you would comprehend the most."

This time, her eyes nearly doubled in size, all traces of exhaustion momentarily vanished.

"Y-you mean, we are betrothed?" she stammered.

"No, no, not 'betrothed'. Simply destined. It is going to happen, regardless of any conflicting circumstances."

"But I…I'm just a little girl! I'm only twelve years old!" she exclaimed. "And you, well, you must be _hundreds _of years old-"

"Ah," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "Time, ages, they have no place in the Underworld. You have been here just as long as I, Your Highness." He tapped the tip of her nose and grinned. "Perhaps _you_ are older!"

She knew he was teasing her, and she giggled. Then his expression saddened, and her laughter ceased.

"You are correct, though," he said softly, disappointment evident in his voice. "When you ran away, your form was much older. Not quite ready, but in about a season or two-" He closed his eyes and broke off for a moment. "We knew you might return in a different body. I was prepared for that. But I never envisioned…a mere child…" He looked at her hurriedly. "Not that it is any of your fault, my Moanna. You are still Moanna; the body is nothing but a physicality. But you must understand…I have waited for so _long_…and waiting is torture."

"Waiting for what?" she asked innocently, and he laughed bitterly.

"The fact that you don't know proves that you are too young."

"Maybe if you show me-"

"Do not tempt me, little Princess," he said quickly, removing her hand from his. "It would not be right. You are not ready…and, for that matter, neither am I."

"No?" she questioned curiously. "I have to grow up, but what is it that _you _have to do?"

He turned and smiled.  
"Do you find me handsome?"

"No," she said truthfully, and he nodded.

"Fauns are stunning creatures, flawlessly beautiful even," he explained. "Perfect in a way mortals never can be. But staying on Earth, waiting for century after century, battered by time and the elements-" He flicked his shoulder, and a section of the bark-like exterior fell away to reveal smooth, pale skin. "-it took its toll."

"Then why did you wait for so long?"

He touched her cheek, and she couldn't help but to lean into his touch.

"Because I love you," he said simply, "since the beginning of time until the end."

She smiled. "That's very sweet of you."

"Oh, don't worry about not loving me back," he said kindly, "you will soon enough. I used to look very much like your fairytale's Prince Charming: young and agile and…"

"…and charming?" she finished.

"Yes, and charming."

"Marrying Prince Charming would be nice," she confessed, "although I think I would love you even if you stayed just as you are."

"You are very kind, Princess Moanna."

He bent down and dared to place a delicate kiss on her cheek then gasped as she flung her arms around his neck.

"I suppose if I have to be destined to marry someone," she whispered into his long, blond hair, "you are the best I could have."

Then she let him go and closed her eyes.

He strode to her door, slightly overwhelmed and was about to leave when he heard her ask one final question.

"That baby I'm holding…in the statue with you and me…it's _our_ baby, isn't it?"

He smiled. "Yes, Princess. He will marry the fairy that brought you to me."

She laughed sleepily, already drifting off. "But she's so small…"

He shrugged and exited the room. "She too will have to change. Goodnight."

Then he closed the door and was gone.

"I'm twelve," she mumbled then corrected herself. "I'm in an twelve-year-old's _body_. And princesses are married when they are sixteen."

Suddenly, four years seemed a terribly long time, and as she finally slipped into sleep, she hoped that time in the Underworld passed a bit faster than time on Earth.

**The End**


End file.
